Disclaimer: Digimon Adventure and its characters do not belong to me.

I wrote this story for soratoseason in December 2016. I poured my heart into this and had lots of fun, so please let me know what you think of it!

What You Think of Me

Saturday, December 22, 2001, 9:31 AM

Eggs next, Sora thought as she wheeled her shopping cart around the corner. Eggs and butter and…Yamato?

Sora smiled. Her friend was standing in the aisle ahead of her, reaching for an egg carton on the top shelf. He was easy to spot from behind with that distinctive crop of yellow hair and his black leather jacket. She tapped his shoulder. "Hi!"

"Ah—!" Yamato dropped the eggs. Sora gasped, fell to her knees and caught the egg carton between her hands. A second later Yamato clapped his hands around hers; he quickly let go.

"Thanks—uh—good reflexes!" Yamato was blushing, kneeling next to her.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's all right! I was the one who shouldn't have, uh, panicked?" He smiled timidly, which made the girl laugh. She had a kind laugh, which made him smile wider.

"Here you go, sir!" Sora handed the carton back to the boy and he stood up with her, grinning but avoiding her eyes. He put it on top of his own shopping cart, which was already very full. Of course, Sora thought, Yamato probably does all the grocery shopping, just like he does all the cooking.

"How are you?" Yamato asked, eager to move on. He met her gaze and found her beaming.

"I'm positively wonderful, thank you!" Sora grabbed an egg carton for herself. The way she sung all those syllables was like music. "My dad's coming back on Christmas Eve."

"Oh, right!" Yamato nodded. Sora's father had been in Hong Kong for three months, doing some kind of research there. Yamato was sure it was historically important or whatever. But now it was the end of the fall semester so he would be returning home. Yamato recognized flour, vanilla, and sugar in Sora's cart. "Are you making him a cake?"

"Yes! Chocolate cake. Well, my mom and I are making it together. I'd probably burn it by myself."

Yamato leaned on his cart, not in any hurry to check out. "That sounds great. She must be really happy."

"She is. She hasn't lost her temper in over a week. She's spoiling me even, letting me stay up all night. Hm, I could probably buy a puppy and she wouldn't care!"

"Really?"

"Nah, better not push my luck."

"How about a bird?"

Sora ran her fingers through her hair, looking down at the ground, and Yamato's heart sunk. He shouldn't have asked that. He should have known better.

But Sora still teased a small smile.

"I'd like a bird. I should still ask my mom's permission, though. She hates animals."

"I think she'd understand."

"Yeah… Thanks, Yamato."

"Ah…" Yamato scrunched his face, trying to find the right expression to appear gracious but bemused and unaffected—a face Sora knew well because the boy could never simply take a compliment.

A frizzly-haired woman pushed her cart down their aisle, a toddler running around her heels. "Excuse me," the mother said, gesturing to the egg shelf.

Sora and Yamato pulled their carts apart to let the mother through.

"I should check out," Yamato said flatly, feeling dumb because he didn't actually want to leave.

"Okay! I should get some butter and chocolate and—I'll see you in school, Yamato!" Sora waved goodbye and heard his "Bye, Sora," as she pulled away. She fiddled with her hair again—she loved the way Yamato said her name, always in such a serious tone of voice. He really was a good friend.

Monday, December 24, 2001, 8:15 AM

Yamato skipped down the sidewalk on his way to school, feeling sort of ready for the last day of the semester. He knew that he should be worried about that awful algebra test today. Instead he kept imagining scenarios of Mr. Takenouchi bursting into Sora's home with his arms wide open, kissing his wife and hugging his daughter; all of them wearing British Victorian era costumes as if they were living in a Dickensian A Christmas Carol production. He imagined Sora's father bringing a giant turkey out of his coach to roast over a quaint little fireplace, and he pictured the family feasting together in candlelight, chatting non-stop about the man's exotic adventures abroad.

Of course that's a very silly thing to imagine, Yamato knew. For one thing, Sora's apartment doesn't even have a fireplace. For another, Sora is too classy to wear a giant frilly dress like that—assuming that's what all women wore in England? Yamato didn't actually know much about the Victorian era outside of cartoons. But even if the imaginary setting was silly, the joy he imagined on his friend's face was real.

Yamato admired the Takenouchis, the perfect family that didn't let distance get in the way of true love. No matter how far apart they were and for no matter how long, they always came back to each other smiling. But it's probably weird for me to fantasize about them, he thought. After all, they're not my parents.

"Hi Sora!" he called out to her. She was already waiting under their tree, staring at the school building, but she turned around to see him.

"Hi," Sora responded, and Yamato's heart sunk again. She didn't look anything like he imagined. She was stiff, her arms crossed, her smile forced, her eyes red.

"Sora…?" Yamato stretched his hand forward.

"HEY SORA!" Another boy shoved past Yamato and threw his arms around the girl. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

"Oof! Taichiii!" Sora pushed Taichi off and dramatically brushed down her uniform, as if he had gotten her dirty. "Really Taichi. I'm not five anymore."

"You can be five on Christmas. I give you permission, as five-year-old-in-chief."

Sora laughed loudly at that. She doesn't sound natural, Yamato thought.

"Merry Christmas to you too, buddy." Taichi lightly punched Yamato's shoulder. Yamato growled in response, which made Sora laugh again.

Taichi loved making Sora laugh, but Yamato caught his fist the second time he tried to punch him. (Which made Sora giggle anyway.)

"Taichi, stop annoying him," Sora commanded.

"Okay, but only because it's Christmas."

Yamato crossed his arms and grunted.

"I know why you're in such a good mood today." Taichi leaned next to her on the tree. "Your dad's finally back!"

Sora inhaled and exhaled. "No, he's not."

Taichi blinked; he used a softer voice. "What? What happened?"

"He's staying in Hong Kong for two more weeks."

"Ehh?! Why?"

"He—got invited to a conference and he forgot to tell us about it earlier, that's all. It's not a big deal. I'll see him in two weeks." Sora kept staring at her feet, but she felt the boys' eyes on her and it made her uncomfortable.

"Of course it's a big deal," Taichi retorted. "He's going to miss your entire winter break, and then he'll have to go back to Kyoto. What a bastard."

"Taichi!" Sora snapped.

"That's pretty shitty behavior to you and your mom."

"My mom—ugh!" Sora glared at Taichi fiercely and stomped off into school, wiping her eyes as soon as she passed through the doors. She couldn't bear to look at Yamato. What must he think of her?

"Wait, Sora!" Taichi voice was drowned by the school bell. "Aw crap…" he turned to his taller friend who was clenching and unclenching his fists, poorly hiding his anger. "What did I do?"

"You called her dad a bastard, you idiot!"

"Because he's acting like one."

"I know, and you're right, and I agree with you, but you can't just SAY that!" Yamato grabbed Taichi's shoulders.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down man, we're on the same side here."

Yamato grimaced and let him go, feeling stupid.

"No fighting me, it's Christmas. What do I say to her in class? Help me."

"Say…just say sorry. You know how much she loves her dad. She's just feeling embarrassed."

"Right. Good idea." Taichi pondered some more. Yamato looked so flustered. "Will you talk to her after school?"

"I…yes of course." Yamato felt a lump in his throat, suddenly unsure of himself. What would he say?

"Thanks. I know you'll know exactly what to say to her." Taichi clapped Yamato's shoulder with complete confidence. The school bell rang again.

Yamato winced. "Aaand I'm late for my math test."

"You'll be fine! Just believe in yourself!" Taichi ran ahead.

Yamato followed and did not hit him.

3:48 PM

She wasn't at the tennis courts. Yamato ran there as soon as classes ended, but she didn't come. Her teammates didn't know where she was. "It's not like her to miss practice," they said. Yamato drummed his fingers on the chain-link fence. He quickly dismissed thoughts that she had gone home. Probably the last place she wanted to be right now was home. So she could be anywhere.

Or maybe…

It was a place they all wandered into sometimes, when they were lonely.

He walked back to the school.

3:55 PM

Sora inched forward on her chair, staring at the monitor. The computer lab was mercifully empty after the school day ended. She left the lights off, not wanting any adults to notice her and tell her to go home. She'd rather sit here in silence, waiting. She didn't mind waiting. She'd wait here all night if she had to, even though her mother would be furious.

The Digital Gate was fickle. It sporadically opened on computers, but they had no way of knowing when, or how, or why. Even if they did get lucky around a computer, it usually only opened "halfway"; they might be able to hear their partner's voice, glimpse each other's faces, or touch hands for a short, glorious moment. Their digivices simply weren't efficient enough to open the Gate whenever they wanted. Taichi and Koushiro were trying to find a way to open the Gate consistently, but those boys didn't have the technological means between them to update a magical digivice.

Still, Sora didn't believe, in her heart, that a digivice was really necessary to go to the Digital World. In the same way Yamato had realized that their crests weren't really necessary to defeat Apocalymon. Sure, they were useful devices for channeling their inner-feelings into magic, but Sora instinctively knew that her feelings could reach Piyomon, with or without them.

If Sora just focused hard enough, if she opened her heart wide enough, then surely, surely Piyomon would hear her? Piyomon, who was the other half of her soul?

"Piyomon?" Sora whispered. She pressed her forehead against the screen, close enough to kiss. "Piyomon? Please?"

Chirp! Chirp!

But Sora was only hearing the birds outside the lab windows. She slammed her fist onto the desk. "Why are you never here?!"

Knock. Knock.

There was someone at the lab door. Sora clamped her hand over her mouth.

"Sora? It's me."

It was Yamato. Sora's face felt hot. Her heart was beating too fast, too loudly.

"Do you want to talk?" His voice was hesitant.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It didn't really matter if she looked like a mess… "You can come in." She heard the door creak open and the sound of his footsteps. She turned to see him sit in the seat beside hers, but he looked down as soon as their eyes met.

She's embarrassed and I'm just making things worse, he worried. But he shook that thought from his mind.

"Don't feel bad. The last time I was in here, I punched a computer," he said, tilting his head towards the lit monitor.

The girl blinked twice. "Really?"

"Yeah. I broke it. And then I had to pay for it, like an idiot. So, whatever you're feeling, it's okay. You're not alone."

"I don't think you're an idiot."

"Heh. Thanks."

"Yamato, I…" Sora held his gaze. Her voice quavered, but she was clearly determined to speak. Yamato didn't dare look away this time. He gently nodded, prodding her on.

"Yamato, I'm so sorry!" her voice broke.

The boy froze. He was expecting that. "For what?"

"For—for making such a big deal of this. When you have it worse. You never get to see your family together, and here I am, complaining, when I don't have to worry about visitation rights or anything like that. I just have to wait for two more weeks, and you—you've had to deal with a lot more fighting and waiting all your life—so I—I'm sorry—you must think I'm naïve or selfish—"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down." Yamato was alarmed, but he kept his voice steady. "First of all, I'm going to see my mom and Takeru tomorrow, and I'm going to have a great time. We're not having any crises. Everything's normal for us. I'm fine. So you don't…you don't have to feel sorry for me."

"Oh…" Sora bit her lip. "That came out really bad, didn't it? I didn't mean…"

"No, wait, I messed up," Yamato awkwardly interjected. "It's okay if you feel sorry for me, and if I feel sorry for you. That's fine. That's normal for us. It's what friends do. But—I know you feel bad for seeing Taichi and me pity you, because I feel bad when people pity me, and you're the same as me."

Sora brushed her hair out of her face. "You think I'm the same as you?"

"Well…yeah. And secondly, I'd never think you were naïve or selfish. Don't ever think that! Please."

"I shouldn't have put words in your mouth. I…I worry what you think."

"…Yeah. I get that. But don't worry about me on top of everything else."

Sora's shoulders relaxed. Watching Yamato try to comfort her, it was clear just how anxious he was. How he, too, was worried about messing up in front of her. He didn't even realize how effective his words were. She leaned closer to him. "Then I'll stop worrying what you think of me, and you stop worrying what I think of you. Okay?"

"Ha. Okay. Like it's easy."

"You make it easy."

Somehow, it felt easier to look into her eyes now, and he felt bolder. "Sora…"

"Yes?"

"You…said fighting. Did your parents fight?"

"Oh…" She nodded. "They had a long argument on the phone last night. I could only hear Mom's side. I tried not to listen, but…I couldn't stop…"

Yamato leaned forward. "Is that the reason you feel lonely?"

"…Yes…"

There wasn't much he could say. Yamato wouldn't pretend that everything would be all right. He couldn't. But Sora could see his feelings clear on his face, his mask stripped away. It was a deeper sorrow than mere pity. He stretched his hand forward and touched her fingers—she clasped his hand tightly, and he didn't let go.

"I think…" Yamato chose his words carefully. "Your parents love you. Try to focus on that, no matter what happens—and it's likely that nothing bad will even happen. I don't know. It's normal to fight. But I think they love you a lot, like mine do. You can't control what they do and that hurts but you can have faith in their love for you."

Sora squeezed his hand gratefully and wiped her eyes and nose with her other arm. Yamato's face looked wet too, but he was too anxious to move or look away from her for one second.

Yamato's words about her parents were kind and reasonable, but mostly, he left Sora feeling stronger in her faith in him…

"Sora! Soooraaa!"

Sora gasped. That wasn't Yamato's voice at all; it was high-pitched and sugary-sweet.

"Yamato! Over here! Look over here!"

Yamato's jaw dropped. The children wheeled around to face the computer and their digimon were there on the monitor, waving.

"Piyomon! I see you! Oh Piyomon!"

"Gabumon is that you?"

"SOOORAAAA!"

"Yes I'm me! I look exactly the same! You're the one who looks different!" Gabumon sniffed and started sobbing. "I m-mean you look s-s-so much taller and p-prettier."

"SORA IS THE PRETTIEST!" Piyomon defended her partner. "Soraa! Don't cry!"

"I'm not crying," Sora defended herself, crying. "I miss you so much."

"Really?" Piyomon buried her face in her wings, blushing. "Sora I am always worried you'll think I'm a bother!"

"Piyomon! Don't worry about that!"

"A-are you all right, Gabumon?" Yamato couldn't stop the tears at this point, but fortunately Gabumon wouldn't mention that.

"I'm fine! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Actually I'm lonely," Gabumon confessed.

"M-me too," Yamato replied.

The children and their digimon partners spoke to each other for three glorious minutes before the fickle Digital Gate closed abruptly and the computer screen turned blue. The sudden magical encounter left Yamato and Sora breathless.

"They…they…that was…" Yamato's brain was whirling. "Wait, how did that happen? We didn't even use our digivices…"

Sora beamed at him. "It's because the feelings of our friendship were enough to open the Gate! I couldn't do it by myself but we did it together!"

Yamato gaped then smiled back at her. They were still holding hands. Yamato had never felt more grateful to be Sora's friend.

This time, Sora was the first to let go. "I should go home. My mother will be worried."

"Yeah. I…should get dinner started." Yamato stuttered as Sora stood up. "W-wait Sora!"

"Yes?"

"To me, you… Thank you. Thank you for this—thank you."

"Thank you!" Sora swept aside her hair again, a habit Yamato found entirely too cute. She waited for him to stand up and they left the school together, not saying anything more.